Of Machetes, Gardeners, and Writing

I have a wonderful gardener who mows and slays Virginia Creeper for me. Yesterday he and his son showed up to tackle what DH left last weekend, a job that entailed using chainsaws, weed whackers, and machetes. (HOA sent a note saying our vegetation was over the fence and maybe out of hand.)
Francisco and I were discussing the Man Eating rose vine he’d transplanted in a less lethal location. I looked down at the well-used, enormous, curved machete in his hand, and automatically my brain went into murder weapon potential. I can’t turn the scheming writer off.
My cleaning ladies found a full-size axe under our couch one day. I heard muffled shrieking, followed by laughter. Never did explain to them why it was there, but they did come back.

Revised, Rewritten, Edited, and More Revision

vicar

The Vicar and The Spy on Wattpad

The NaNoWriMo novel that keeps me fighting years after I began it. Read my progress on Wattpad, and please vote if you like it. I’m flailing about with it right now.